


In the Atmosphere

by whimsicott



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 14:47:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15463746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whimsicott/pseuds/whimsicott
Summary: It was Quatre who started this, but Six would be lying if he said he hated it.





	In the Atmosphere

**Author's Note:**

> Gift fic for a friend for all her help with this game

It was Quatre who started this, but Six would be lying if he said he hated it. 

His heats used to be a miserable ordeal of an invisible weight pressing down on his chest, making every breath of air more difficult than the last. Of crumpled sheets under his clenched fist, almost ripping through their threads, and one time, straight out ripping through the threads. 

Of his own pheromones choking him, with no one to help and no one to fill the space around him with anything other than this essence of himself that he can’t stand.

Now, the air around them is a mix of their scent. Quatre’s heat, which he doesn’t detest as much as his own, threads through his to create a scent completely different and more _acceptable_.

And, of course, the relief that seeps slowly into him each time Quatre moves down on him, fucking himself on Six’s cock roughly, helps just as much.

“Fuck,” the other boy curses, placing a hand on Six’s chest as his movement halts, having taken Six’s shaft entirely up his ass. “You really like letting me do all the work.”

Six parts his lips to apologize, but Quatre leans down to silence him, placing a kiss on his lips.

_Kiss_ is an all too chaste way to describe it. Quatre kisses the way he likes to be fucked - relentless and aggressive, his rough tongue against Six’s and his moans trembling in his throat. But his unexpected soft lips offer a contrast that continues to surprise Six as it brushes against his own again and again.

They part when they’re a little breathless, and Six closes in on the distance between them quietly once more; one last kiss, a proper, chaste one that Quatre allows just briefly before hoisting himself back up. His long hair drapes over his flushed, heaving chest. Being undone, all that’s left from his usual braid are the kinks in his messy hair. 

Six watches Quatre’s erect cock twitch a little. Part of him wants to think it’s from the kiss, but Quatre would always say that it’s from being filled. That it’s his body’s natural reaction to his own heat, and on fucking himself.

He watches Quatre bite down on his lower lip to stifle a moan as he thrusts up, burying his cock further into Quatre. His partner’s body trembles slightly with the movement, his eyes flinching shut. 

Taking a deep breath, Quatre moves again, raising his hips so he’s halfway up Six’s cock slowly before moving down quickly. He claws on Six’s chest as he moves his hips up and down, and even though he’s lying down, Six feels like he has to grasp down on the sheets below him to balance the two of them, his own thrusts meeting Quatre’s movements clumsily, creating friction between them.

“Fuck,” Quatre curses again. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Six isn’t sure what he means by all that. 

As Quatre’s movement speeds up, so does his own, and Six moves his hand away from the sheets and tentatively up Quatre’s thighs. His touch is unsure at first, a brisk contact of skin against skin, barely lingering. Then his hand presses down against Quatre’s flesh, pushing down as Quatre rises to slow him down.

In response, Quatre clicks his tongue in annoyance. Still, as he looks at Six, his face as flushed as his chest, lips parted slightly, he falls to Six’s pace, his toes curling as they go slower and slower. He moves his hand away from Six’s chest, heaving and flushed as his own, decorated with scratches from his nails. He moves them slowly, matching their current pace, down Six’s chest and then along the lines of his arms. Finally, they stop. Rough palms find their place against the backs of Six’s hands.

Their hands feel the movements of their slow dance together. Their moans are still small and constrained, but spilling from both their lips in a quietly chaotic rhythm.

Six watches, even though he feels awkward this. His body has always been exposed in moments like this, but he has never felt more bare than now, with them feeling each other, slowly grinding. With Quatre’s eyes meeting his directly. He feels his cheeks grow hotter every time Quatre lowers himself down slowly, the heat of their bodies consuming one another’s. 

But despite that, Six’s eyes stay fixed on Quatre. On his eyes, and his lips that exhale his heated breath. On his flushed chest that’s marred with scars, and on their hands, creating new ones as Six’s fingers dig into Quatre’s skin.

He is as breathless and as flushed. 

A natural response of his heat, a natural response of them fucking, Quatre would say, and Six would be inclined to believe that because he has no other explanation for the way his body reacts when they’re together like this.

He’s broken out of his trance when Quatre closes his eyes.

“Fuck,” Quatre curses, yet again. This time, quiet and breathless, and soon followed by a moan. 

Quatre’s cock twitches as he comes on Six’s stomach. His muscles tighten on Six’s cock, pushing Six off his edge to do the same, spilling his come inside Quatre.

Quatre slumps down and pants to catch his breath, letting out small moans as he feels himself get filled up. 

Six wonders how hot it might be for Quatre, when he himself flushes further, feeling the warmth of Quatre’s come against his skin.

But neither of them say anything. They stay, as they are, in this room that has grown to smell like them.

In this space that, for now, has become theirs.


End file.
